Lessons in the Arts
by Chronicles of Lewis
Summary: This takes place during the time in which Mr. Rochester has a whole party of guests visiting at Thornfield. He has been away from the house all day long on stressful business and is in need of a moment of amusement and relaxation before entertaining his guests at dinner.


It was a rare clear sunlit afternoon on the grounds of Thornfield. The golden sunlight beams played through the trees as they chased Mr. Rochester on his ride home after a long day of business. In early summer, everything in sight was green except for himself and his black steed Mesrour. The horse galloped forward as he chewed on his bit and tossed his head. Rochester had not bothered with his long riding coat given the heat of the day although he had donned his riding hat that protected his eyes from the bright sunshine above. Not even the green lawn and radiant sun could completely chase away the feeling of gloom that took over his mind when seeing his house on the horizon. That feeling had lessened in recent months with so many people coming and going from it. To be honest with himself, there was only one person there who made the place seem less unbearable these past few months.

The loud clatter of Mesrour's hooves echoed against the stone walls and ceiling of the entrance archway to the house. Robert stepped forward and nodded to his master as he took a hold of the horse's reins. Mr. Rochester bounded off of the tall stallion. His leather boots hit the stones on the ground hard. There was yet another hour until the dinner bell would ring. Mr. Rochester felt tired and irritable after the long ride back, his guests could wait a while longer for their host to join them. He prowled out onto the terrace and lit a cigar to relax for a moment.

His thoughts ran over the occurrences of the day, more particularly on a tenant who lived in a small house that was part of the Thornfield estate. It was a family of five who had been through an unfortunate year of illness and failed crops. Their agreed payments for staying in the house were well past due. Mr. Rochester did not like the role of playing the landlord because of circumstances like this, not only was it not profitable to let them stay, in a way, he knew that he was losing money by letting them remain in the home. That issue was not important to him, they had been through enough already. He agreed to let them stay on the estate so long as the house was kept in good condition and the land around it was properly maintained and cultivated for growing vegetables and hay. This summer season was starting out more favorable for a good harvest later on in the year, at least that was what he kept telling himself.

He was brought out of his heavy thoughts by the sound of light voices in laughter from somewhere nearby. Apart from the strange maniacal sounds sometimes heard in the halls at night, laughter was an unusual occurrence at the house. Mr. Rochester ventured to the edge of the terrace and looked over the railing. In the garden below were two figures, a taller one in gray and a small one in blue. The governess and her student. They were smiling at each other as the dappled sunlight through the wind animated trees played on their dresses and their faces. They each had a drawing board and paper on their lap. A wisp of Miss Eyre's hair had fallen loose from her braided knot. It tossed about in the breeze. Mr. Rochester was now so distracted, he made no effort to move back so as not to be seen if they should happen to look upward.

"Adele, come now, to make the perspective look real, what is in the background must appear smaller. That flower over there will be smaller than this flower right here. Your flower is much too large to be in the background."

"I do not understand this background, you say." The child pouted.

"That only means it is further away, the foreground is closer to you."

"Miss Eyre, this is not my art. I was born to sing and dance, that is my art. This drawing and painting, it is yours."

"As your teacher, it would be an injustice not to teach you about other kinds of art."

"Perhaps I can learn your art if you learn mine too?"

"Adele, I know that you are trying to distract us from your lesson today."

"What if I sing for you, then you sing for me, then I will try to draw the flower."

Miss Eyre took in a deep breath, she was losing patience with her pupil. Mr. Rochester leaned onto railing and took another drag of his cigar.

"If you will return to your lesson."

"Ah! Mais oui!" Adele clapped her little hands together.

The girl began to sing a song that most French children learn at a young age. Mr. Rochester was impressed that she had chosen that instead of one of the more suggestive adult songs that she was prone to sing. Perhaps Jane — Miss Eyre was having some influence on her tastes in music by now.

"All right, now you." Adele invited her teacher to sing.

"I cannot sing very well. I will try and then we return to work."

Jane began to sing a song in French that she had learned in school. It was a song mostly known by provincial grandmothers in this day and age. Her voice seemed weak and unsure, the words were broken up with a nervous laugh here and there. Mr. Rochester rolled his eyes. Perhaps she should stay to the kind of art that she was meant for. When she had finished, both of them started to laugh again. This sound was more pleasant to their master's ears.

"My friend Helen from school taught me a wonderful song about friendship. She had a good voice, unlike mine."

"Oh please, I want to hear it." Adele got to her knees and begged.

Jane took another deep breath.

"After this, you must return to your lesson."

Adele nodded. Jane began to sing in her native English tongue. Her voice had transformed into a self assured cadence which captured the melody. It was not perfect yet still captivating to know that she could sing in a way that could speak to the birds if she wanted to. Mr. Rochester was now leaning over the rail caught up in the moment. When the song ended, he finished his cigar and left the terrace.

"Your English voice is much improved, Miss Eyre" Adele encouraged. "And now, we should dance."

"No, Adele, return to your study or else we will go back inside."

Adele was not listening. She took a hold of both of Jane's hands and began to dance in little leaps and twirls. She hummed a theater song as she pointed her toes in her shoe. She was in her own little world now. Jane resolved that the only way to bring her back would be to join in the dance for a moment. Adele made an elegant pose with her arms and hands and Jane attempted to do the same and they laughed about their silly performance.

Adele did a fast spin and Jane attempted to do the same. Both girls were startled when they turned to see Mr. Rochester before them. He looked tall and imposing with his hat pulled over his brow line.

"Ooh! Monsieur Rochester! I have been waiting for your return. See, Miss Eyre and I are learning the arts today."

Jane kept her head low, her veil of seriousness had been lowered over her expression.

"Miss Eyre, is this your plan for a proper education in the arts and sciences for my young ward?"

"No, not as planned, sir. Forgive us a moment of foolishness. The fine weather has made us a little carried away today."

"Indeed."

Because Jane's head was lowered, she did not catch the upturned lips of Mr. Rochester who was

clearly amused. Adele did.

"Please, Monsieur, we were properly dancing just now."

"Young girl, that was not a proper dance. It was meant for the stage and a poorly rehearsed theatrical effort at that. Now that you are firmly planted on English soil, you should learn a true proper dance in case someday, I should let you anywhere near a polite society soirée."

"Will you show me, Monsieur Rochester. Can I dance with you?"

"Alas no, you are too small, child. Perhaps if your teacher will give me her hand...that is to say allow me the pleasure, I will demonstrate for you."

"Oh sir, I do not know..." Jane crossed her arms defensively.

"Oh come Miss Eyre, all school girls are taught the simplest box step."

Mr. Rochester held out his hand to her. Jane stood back in the shade of a tree.

"Jane, I'm waiting."

Hesitantly, she placed her fingertips upon his and he took a hold of her hand and placed the other politely on her shoulder.

"A step forward, then back on the right, that is good."

Adele hummed the melody of a song that Mr. Rochester recognized. It was not something that would be played in this society yet it suited this simple moment in the garden. He knew that the song would always make him think of his partner here whenever he heard it played.

"Sir, I am..." Jane wanted to excuse herself away.

"You will do well if you stop thinking so much about it and follow my lead. Polite etiquette dictates that eye contact is essential between partners."

Adele held in a joyful giggle behind her smile. Jane tried her best. She raised her face up to his. She could see under the shadowed brim of his dark riding hat into his eyes. Their was a strange sparkle to them, the sunlight was reflecting off of her forehead. She felt hot in its radiance. He was a good leader and fine dancer. Her legs which had felt nervy and clumsy were now in a state of floating. He finished the dance and stepped back with a bow, Jane did likewise and regained her composure.

"Adele, that is how you will someday learn to dance in civilized company."

Mr. Rochester spoke to Adele yet his eyes stayed fixed on his partner, she could not look away from him either.

"When I will be in society, yes. Someday, I will be on the stage too. Then I will teach you how to dance like me." Adele giggled.

Jane laughed and Mr. Rochester joined in their little party of glee.

"You have a lot to learn yet, Adele. Jane — Miss Eyre and I will make sure of that..."

Two more voices were heard on the terrace above them, the twin sisters were walking together and talking loudly.

"I hope that Mr. Rochester returns soon. It is almost time for dinner and the elders won't let us eat until our host has arrived."

"He has been away on important business today. I hope that the day has gone well and that he is in good spirits."

"I happen to know that Blanche would very much like to spend time with him this evening."

The sisters laughed, their laughter was full of implication and nothing like the happy sounds that he had just shared together with his young companions. Jane busied herself with gathering up the art supplies. She bit her lip as if to hold back something that she wanted to say. He wished to stay with her and Adele, then an awareness of his blasted responsibilities set in.

"Miss Eyre, whatever is on your mind? The child should be taking her supper in the kitchen already. Return her to Sophie and be in the drawing room before dinner has ended."

"Yes, sir."

Mr. Rochester stomped away on the grass until he reached a stone walking path. He turned to look at Jane again. She took Adele by the shoulder to lead her back inside. She saw the conflicted look in his eyes, she understood that they should wait there a little until there was some distance between them. _She was growing tired of always having to wait until there some safe distance between them_. Mr. Rochester walked away knowing that she had correctly comprehended his unspoken order. He knew that their minds were bonding in a way that no longer needed words. Soon she may be able to read all of his dark passionate thoughts and then there would be no turning back for either of them.


End file.
